


The Valentine's Date and the Chaperone

by TheyDraggedMeInNowIAintLeaving



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alive Allison Argent, Alive Vernon Boyd & Erica Reyes, Alpha Derek, Beta Scott, Human Stiles, I'm Bad At Tagging, M/M, No Sexual Content, Post canon, Sterek endgame, men kissing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-14
Updated: 2017-02-14
Packaged: 2018-09-24 10:25:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9718517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheyDraggedMeInNowIAintLeaving/pseuds/TheyDraggedMeInNowIAintLeaving
Summary: Stiles is back home from college and living with his dad for the time being; seeing as his track record with dates are even worse than Derek's the alpha has been volunteered by the pack to chaperone Stiles' Valentine's Day's date.One of these days Derek's going to tell them that 'alpha' means 'decider of things' (he probably won't, though)





	

**Author's Note:**

> End notes are potentially spoilery  
> As always kudos and coments are more than welcome; if you feel like I've forgotten essential tags let me know.  
> Rating is for language

Sometimes Derek would look in the mirror and tell himself that he was a big, strong alpha and as such perfectly capable of saying ’no’. Then Erica would pout or Scott would look at him with his puppy dog eyes and Derek’s resolve would crumble faster than a house of card in a hurricane. Of course it usually wasn’t that bad, Erica typically just wanted to borrow the Camaro and Scott would want to invite Allison over (okay, it _was_ that bad, but he could deal) but this is a whole new level of torture, and keep in mind Derek’s been tortured way too many times to count at this point in his still relatively short life. Right now though he almost wishes a hunter would take mercy on him and kidnap him, maybe torture him a little for the fun of it – or whatever reason those psychopaths give to justify their actions – and then put him out of his misery.

The reason for his current predicament is – obviously – Stiles. The boy had a track record with dating that’s even worse than Derek’s own (but, as Stiles used to say when he thought it all got too depressing, at least he wasn’t a virgin any more) so when he’d told the pack he had a date on Valentine’s day they’d unanimously voted Derek his chaperone, making sure Stiles wouldn’t end up dead in a ditch somewhere. There’d been far too many close calls and if it happened again they’d agreed to forbid Stiles from ever dating again; or rather, Derek had decreed and Lydia had rolled her eyes before condescendingly patting his arm and telling him to put on his big boy pants. Derek had ‘accidentally’ forgotten her salad when ordering food that night, which was why he was sitting in the fanciest restaurant in all of Beacon Valley wearing a suit and desperately willing the menu to be in English while ignoring the overwhelming stench of arousal and some downright predatory looks thrown his way from both women and men alike regardless most of them was were clearly on dates; it _almost_ made him regret dismissing Boyd’s suggestion of bringing a date himself.

Giving up on the letters that refused to translate into something readable (why the fuck would you willingly eat _poison_ *, French or not, he thought) and decided to just wait for the waiter to come back; the menu had barely touched the table before the man was there, order pad ready and pen expectantly poised in anticipation of Derek’s order. Great conversationalist that his is Derek simply growls out:

_”Steak. Rare.”_ And then tunes back to Stiles’ conversation with his date. As per usual the boy’s rambling mouth goes sixty miles a minute and Derek can’t even pretend to care enough to pay attention ( _”How come the guy only sparkles when he shows her, I mean it wasn’t the only time he was outside during the day – consistency, dude, is a thing and at least abide by the rules you’ve made, don’t just disregard them when you realize the guy looks like a moron when he’s sparkling. And what’s with all the shirtlessness, either they intended to give everybody and their uncle even more body issues or they’re implying werewolves are animals that can’t even stay under the guise of being human long enough to wear clothes.”_ ) choosing to focus on Stiles’ date instead. The guy looks bored to tears though he smiles warmly every time Stiles looks at him; Derek thinks he smells human but one probably never can be too careful so he stays put for the time being.

The plate’s placed in front of him with probably a little more force than is usual in an establishment as this but Derek finds he doesn’t care enough to tear his gaze from the table in the other end of the room; the date’s feeding Stiles who’s blushing so hard Derek can almost feel the warmth of it several feet away. There’s a prickle in his gums at the sight and he realizes there’s a low but consistent growl coming from his throat – the waiter wisely beats a hasty retreat rather than continue is passive-aggressive behavior. Whatever the date’s having must be good judged by the way Stiles moans around the fork and obediently opens his mouth when it returns refilled and Derek takes his phone to send out a distress signal, which goes mostly ignored except for the exclamation mark from Lydia.

It goes on forever, the date feeding Stiles little bites from his plate (though the douchebag refused when Stiles had wanted to return the favor. Derek may or may not have popped a claw or ten at the hurt mixing into Stiles’ scent, even if it disappeared quickly) all the way through their three course meal. Derek’s steak long gone before they get to desert and to justify his continued occupation of the table he orders copious amounts of coffee; when the date finally asks for the check he feels like he’s consumed his own weight in the black liquid and relieved he flags down the waiter to settle his own bill. The guy rises a little in Derek’s esteem when he pays without complaint.

One of Derek’s favorite pastimes has (at least since Paige) been self-flagellation – his therapist is trying to get him out of the habit, but he doubts today’s going to be the day he breaks pattern, which probably is why he dutifully follows Stiles and his date as they drive back towards the city line of Beacon Hills, parks his car a few streets from the sheriff’s house before walking back in time to watch them enter the front door, soon followed by the sounds of some serious kissing closing in on making out territory. He can’t help the relieved sigh when they finally part and the usual sounds (not that Derek know what they are, though) of Stiles stumbling into the kitchen to make coffee are audible to his superior hearing. Coffee and talking soon take a detour back to kissing and dear _god_ Derek didn’t need to know _that_ was a thing anybody would want to do with others; apparently neither did Stiles if the sudden sound of him moving further away from his date (not that Derek in any way, shape or form is able to tell exactly how Stiles moves from as little as the squeak of a floor board; because no matter what Stiles says he’s not a creeper), though it seems the date thinks it’s an invitation to keep talking as he starts to paint a very vivid picture at which Derek can feel the blood draining from his face all the while trying to remind himself that he’s a werewolf with some pretty weird kinks** himself and he shouldn’t judge somebody else’s.

Derek’s pulled from his own berating thoughts by Stiles’ heartbeat, erratic in a way it usually only is when he’s yelling at Derek for being a ‘self-sacrificing idiot’ or the sheriff’s yearly physical is imminent; it’s a signal that Stiles is only one wrong move from a panic attack and if douche-date makes it Derek doesn’t care how human the guy is, he’s still going to tear his throat out. Derek carefully listens as Stiles gets control over his breathing and then moves to stand up, listens as Stiles fumbles his way through a halfassed excuse and asking for maybe rescheduling the rest of their date. Sadly, douche-date’s one of those people who weren’t ever taught that ‘no’ means ‘no’ regardless of how far you’ve progressed and by the time he’s halfway through the spiel about how he’s _owed_ Derek’s already through the door and has a clawed hand around the asshole’s neck.

He doesn’t let Stiles say anything (because he’s not _actually_ going to kill the bastard, hence no need telling him not to) simply drags the waste of space through the door, down the driveway completely ignoring the way the guy struggles against his grip and then depositing him on the pavement next to his car. Then he walks back where he closes the door and turns the lock, listening for any sign asshole didn’t get the message and tries to come back. Surprisingly it only takes thirty seconds before Derek can hear the sound of the guy’s car taking off.

Derek turns with the expectation of facing a Stiles still in near panic but what he gets is Stiles looking half scolding and half amused, an eyebrow raised in question before he sighs and turns on his heel, walking to the kitchen.  
_”I got that tea you like,”_ he calls and Derek can hear him lifting the kettle, filling it, pressing the button down and the sound of the water heating. By the time Stiles is pouring the boiling water over the tealeaves Derek’s sitting at the kitchen table fiddling with a napkin left from earlier.  
They drink their tea in silence and when Derek’s done and has cleaned up the mug he’s used and makes to leave Stiles’ hand wraps around his wrist:  
_”Stay, please.”_

They’re woken by the sheriff’s voice ( _”looks like Isaac won the bet.”_ There’s a pause, Derek doesn’t bother trying to listen to the other end of the call. _”Because they’re both fully dressed, Lydia.”_ ) and hand in hand they walk into the kitchen.

The End ~~The Beginning~~

**Author's Note:**

> *The first time I saw the word 'poisson' (which is French for "fish") I thought it was a typo. I do realize you probably wouldn't use it on a menu but this is my story and my rules :)
> 
> **Derek's use of the word 'weird' isn't meant in a negative way. He balks at whatever kink the OMC describes but is aware that some of the things he likes would be as equally gross/crazy/appalling/whatever to others.  
> This is also the reason I decided not to specify what the omc might talk about, instead leaving it up to the reader what you would think was a turn off/too much for a first date to elicit that kind of reaction.


End file.
